


Sphere of Influence

by foxjar



Series: Raison d'être [2]
Category: Persona 5, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Drama, Gen, POV Third Person Omniscient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxjar/pseuds/foxjar
Summary: Leblanc is always quiet before the inescapable Tsukiyama storm."May I have your hand?" Shuu asks. When Akira offers him his hand, Shuu brings it to his nose, sniffing loudly. "You smell divine, like the richest coffee. Fresh like flowers in springtime, awash with early morning dew."Akira smiles, amused but not falling for the infamous Tsukiyama charm. "Do I really smell that good?"
Series: Raison d'être [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476320
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Sphere of Influence

**Author's Note:**

> For [Get Your Words Out](https://getyourwordsout.dreamwidth.org) 7 Days, 7 Stories: Day 3.

Leblanc is always quiet before the inescapable Tsukiyama storm.

The volume on the television is low as it hums the news, the clink of dishes in the sink being washed a low background noise. Part of what makes Leblanc's patrons come back again and again is the atmosphere that Sojiro tries to provide his customers: a quiet place to unwind and an ear to listen to their woes if they wish to share.

But then, like the inevitably of the rising sun, Tsukiyama Shuu makes his grand entrance, arms wide as he announces his arrival. His voice booms all throughout the small cafe, making Sojiro wince. The customers familiar with Shuu's antics at the cafe quickly down their drinks, offering Sojiro a solemn nod as they scurry out the door. They already know what sort of theatrics Sojiro is in for, and although they might feel bad for him, nobody wants to be around for it.

"You're scaring all my customers away," Sojiro says, starting to prepare Shuu's usual order, hoping he'll leave after he finishes his coffee. "Makoto never should have told you about this place."

Shuu sits at the counter, the chair creaking beneath him. He leans over the counter, staring wide-eyed at Sojiro as the corners of his lips twitch in a strange smile.

"Monsieur, you wound me! Am I not your most generous customer?"

"That doesn't mean much when you're always causing a scene when you're here."

Shuu sighs with content when Sojiro hands him his coffee, his nose quivering as he sniffs the cup.

"I thought you might be trying a new blend, but there is something else I smell. Something delectable beyond words. Why do you hide it from me, Monsieur Sakura?"

"The hell are you talking about, ya damn weirdo?" Sojiro crosses his arms. "Just finish your coffee and get outta here."

Shuu tries to tease the truth from Sojiro, bit by bit. There must be something new about the place — some new beans he's trying? Perhaps a new dish on the menu?

Unfortunately for Sojiro, it just happens to be his new employee that grabs Shuu's attention. The man finishes washing the dishes before making his way behind the counter, wiping down the cabinet and organizing all of the supplies.

Shuu slams his cup against the counter and gasps.

"Oh! An angel!" he cries. "It is you that I have been smelling all this time. Tell me, what is your name?"

Sojiro shakes his head, but the employee is polite and introduces himself as Kurusu Akira. His shirt is a dark cream, his apron an earthy green. But it's his curly hair and glasses that have Shuu licking his lips.

Innocent. Unassuming.

"May I have your hand?" Shuu asks. When Akira offers him his hand, Shuu brings it to his nose, sniffing loudly. "You smell divine, like the richest coffee. Fresh like flowers in springtime, awash with early morning dew."

Akira smiles, amused but not falling for the infamous Tsukiyama charm. "Do I really smell that good?"

"Oui! And more. So much more, Monsieur Kurusu. You have no idea how your scent affects me, how it spurs me to create."

"Are you an artist?"

"I play the piano. And I cook — only the most gourmet dishes are allowed to grace my tongue," Shuu says, circling the rim of his cup with his finger. "There is a restaurant I visit that caters to such tastes. It would honor me if you allowed me to escort you there sometime."

* * *

After Akira makes Shuu his second cup of coffee, Sojiro pulls him back to the kitchenette area.

"Don't listen to him," Sojiro says, voice low but seeped with irritability. "And don't go anywhere with him. Who knows what kind of place you'd end up following that guy?"

Akira looks back at Shuu, whose grin somehow looks wider and more menacing from this distance; his gaze is more dangerous, as if he's a lion watching over his oblivious prey.

"But he's friends with Makoto, isn't he? I trust her sense of judgment."

"I know you do." Sojiro pats Akira's shoulder. "But this time, I wouldn't. I really wouldn't."

Shuu remains at Leblanc all throughout the afternoon and into the evening. He's never stayed this long before, and no matter how many times Sojiro warns Akira about the man, a sense of unease remains. Akira has always been responsible and able to take care of himself, but there's one weakness that seems to plague him.

"Don't offer to help him with anything," Sojiro says after Shuu has excused himself to visit the bathroom. It's late in the evening, and Shuu has been the only customer in the past few hours. "Especially not anything outside of work. And don't let him wrangle you into helping, either."

"If he's so bad, why don't you ask him to leave?"

Although Shuu has been in the bathroom for a few minutes, Sojiro still keeps his voice low.

"I don't have proof of anything; he just makes me uneasy. And he is a Tsukiyama, you know. Who knows what sort of drama he'll dredge up if I throw him out?"

Akira nods, willing to follow through with whatever Sojiro decides. It is his cafe, after all, and it isn't only Makoto's intuition that he trusts.

"Maybe I'm a little curious," Sojiro admits, leaning back against the wall to gaze up at the television. Tomorrow's forecast is running across the screen: cloudy with a high chance of rain.

"About what?"

"There's something off about that guy, don't ya think?" The toilet in the bathroom flushes and Sojiro turns to wash the mugs piling up in the sink, all Shuu's. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that."

Usually Sojiro would leave to let Akira close up by himself, but he stays to help out tonight. It takes less time with both of them working to clean up and take inventory. Akira unties his apron and sets it on the counter before telling Shuu that it's closing time, and it is surprisingly easy to convince him to leave. It might be because he persuades Akira to show him out; as if Shuu hasn't visited Leblanc dozens of times, as if the exit isn't clear. As he's leaving, his body slowly inching out the door, Shuu laments about having to survive without Leblanc's delicious coffee all night. Akira reminds him of the cafe's hours for the next day. This seems to perk Shuu up, giving him something to look forward to tomorrow, and Akira manages to close and lock the door.

"Glad that's over with." Sojiro sighs, stretching his arms. "I'm gonna do a load of laundry tonight, so give me your apron."

But when Akira turns to where he left it draped over the counter, his apron is gone.

"He did keep going on and on about how good you smell," Sojiro teases, shaking his head. "But I don't know. Do you really think he'd take it?"

Akira can't imagine what could be so alluring about his apron — and one that he's been wearing all day, too — but there's one thing that he's certain of now.

Sojiro was right. There is something strange about Tsukiyama Shuu.


End file.
